


Three Conversations

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [50]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: Breast cancer, Cancer, F/M, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 17:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: “This isn’t just about your mom being strong and able to beat anything, okay? She’s got some of the best doctors in the country looking out for her. They’re going to do their best to keep her going and to get her healthy again. I know she’s really tired and I know she’s sick and I know it’s scary. But lots of people every day, they get cancer. And of all of those people, your mom is the one person I can believe would kick its ass.”





	Three Conversations

**Title:** Three Conversations  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series:** Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing:** Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** Teen  
**Timeframe:** Late season 10. After _Turpis Capillus Annus_ , before _Just Like Gold Times_  
**A/N:** There is so much to explore with the cancer stuff. So much canon to play with, to tweak, to FIX. But the idea that Murphy has to find her own way through this, even with Peter’s support, really matters to me.  
Disclaimer: I don’t make a penny from breaking my heart with Diane English’s sitcom characters.

 **Summary:** _“This isn’t just about your mom being strong and able to beat anything, okay? She’s got some of the best doctors in the country looking out for her. They’re going to do their best to keep her going and to get her healthy again. I know she’s really tired and I know she’s sick and I know it’s scary. But lots of people every day, they get cancer. And of all of those people, your mom is the one person I can believe would kick its ass.”_

The silence in the house was deafening. Once, Avery would have hung all over him, desperate to tell stories that letters couldn’t contain. He’d talk about school and his friends and the dog he wanted that no one would let him get. Today, though, there was nothing.

Murphy had made it to work, which Peter learned quickly was not something to argue with her about. He wasn’t here, he didn’t get to determine what was a good day or a bad one, so he just hung out and did nothing out of the ordinary while she got dressed and adjusted the wig she hadn’t wanted him to see when he’d arrived the night before. Below the nearly-perfect faux mane of hair, small tufts of blonde clung to her skull, refusing to give up the ghost. She hadn’t wanted him to see her like that, had all but pushed him out the door, but he stood there, watching her in the mirror as she pulled the beanie down on her scalp and turned to face him, her pj top unbuttoned. Below the flannel, were scars on her breast, and a rib cage protruding through her skin.

This was cancer.

“The contents have shifted again,” she cautioned, looking at him with the same expression that had haunted her eyes their first night together. A reminder, always, she was seven years older than him and forget sets of skin cells, she was a whole disease ahead of him.

“The contents are just fine,” he’d said, moving into the bedroom. He knelt before her, ignoring the ever increasing pain in his knees, and took her hands in his. “Whatever you want.”

“I just want you to hold me.”

“Forever,” he’d murmured before taking the time to undress before sliding between the sheets. She’d been asleep almost as soon as her head rested on his chest. Peter had laid awake most of the night, listening to her breathe.

But now there was a different obstacle to being home to tackle. One that hid behind his closed bedroom door, the Keep Out sign firmly in place. Parental privilege allowed Peter the right to barge in but instead he made a mid morning snack of cheese and grapes and knocked.

“Go away!” Avery called, his tone thick with resentment.

“Just saying that we’ve got snacks downstairs if you’re hungry.”

“I won’t be.”

Peter gave Avery twenty minutes of sulking before he emerged and when it took thirty, the kid got props. It was hard to sulk for that long.

Avery slunk into the kitchen, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and started to head out when Peter stopped him. “You’re not on your turf right now. What’s up? You okay?”

His son turned to him and Peter saw for the first time how deep the layers of anger and betrayal went. “No.” Avery barked. “I’m going back upstairs.”

“Avery --”

“I’m fine, okay? We’re fine. So go back to Bosnia or Iran or wherever else you need to be that’s more important than here. Mom and I have got this, okay?”

Avery stormed out and Peter waited for the door to his room to slam. It did, right on cue, and he sat there, trying to figure out the next move. How much did he know about what was going on with him and Murphy? Did it matter? Did the reality that he wanted to be home change anything?

Finally, the part of him that was Avery’s father won out and he gathered his courage and walked up the stairs. The keep out sign was gone but the door was still closed. He knocked. Avery opened it and red rimmed eyes stared up at him.

“Why aren’t you here?” Avery demanded.

Again, Peter knelt before a Brown and took their hands. “Do you want the real answer?”

Avery nodded.

Peter stood up and walked to the unmade bed and sat down. Avery climbed up next to him. “Okay, here it is. The truth.” He sighed. “Your mom is stubborn as hell and she needs to feel normal right now. Normal means that I’m not changing my life around.”

“But she’s really sick.”

“I know. And I also know she doesn’t want me to come home more than I normally would. It’s really hard for both of us. And I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, but it’s the truth.”

“But this isn’t normal.”

“And cancer isn’t a cold. Your mom needs to feel like the world can continue. And if she would let me change things around, I’d come home more. But … she has been really forceful about that. To the point where we fight a lot about it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, we do. Your mom and I love each other more than almost anything, but we’re both really stubborn and we fight. This hasn’t been easy for us either.”

“She’s so sick.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know!” Avery wailed. “You aren’t here after chemo days and when she gets dizzy cause she doesn’t eat.”

Well, Avery wasn’t wrong about that. Peter rubbed his back. “This has been really scary for you, hasn’t it?”

“I’m trying to be brave but it’s so scary.”

“I know.”

“But I have to show her I’m just as strong as she is.”

“You know, I think it would be okay if you told her you were scared.”

“But then she’d … what if she made me go stay with Jake or something while she gets better?”

Peter almost laughed. Instead he hugged Avery closer. “Kid, your mother would sit down with Dan Quayle and apologize to him before she did that.”

Avery squirmed away and Peter waited, knowing better than to push. “What if she dies?”

Peter leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He waited to answer, knowing that a fast one, the instinctive one about how smart and strong and invincible she was, would only push Avery away. Instead, he took in the gym shoes on the floor, the pile of dirty laundry, the stack of books two grades too advanced on the desk.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. Avery turned to look at him. “I don’t know. But I think about it all the time, Avery. I’m scared to death that something is going to go wrong and your mom isn’t going to make it.” Peter shrugged. “And maybe that isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. I am scared out of my mind for you mom. And for you. I don’t know if you remember, but there was about a year … it was early when I was with your mom. I got injured a few times, one time a bomb went off near me and I ended up with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder and a broken leg and she got so scared for a long time. She was so worried about what if a bullet finally took me out. At the time, I couldn’t understand why she was so scared. Now, I get it. I really do.”

Peter held out his hand and Avery walked forward, taking it. “But here’s the deal, okay?” Avery nodded. “This isn’t just about your mom being strong and able to beat anything, okay? She’s got some of the best doctors in the country looking out for her. They’re going to do their best to keep her going and to get her healthy again. I know she’s really tired and I know she’s sick and I know it’s scary. But lots of people every day, they get cancer. And of all of those people, your mom is the one person I can believe would kick its ass. It’s one of the reasons that I haven’t come back here, even though I want to. Because if she needs to keep life as normal as possible, then I have to trust her doctors, and her, that things can be. Your mom, I know she’s got a plan if things get really bad but it’s going to be far away if that happens. There are a lot of things that the doctors are going to do to keep her healthy before she ever gets close to dying. Okay?”

Avery stared at him for a long time before nodding, slowly. “Okay.”

“And I promise you something, if the worst thing happens and your mom does die, I’m never, ever going to stop being your dad and I am gonna fight to keep you. There would be legal things we need to do with Jake, so I can’t make any promises. But I love you. You’re my kid, okay?”

Avery nodded again and finally flew into Peter’s arms, clinging tightly. Peter rocked him, like he had so many times over the years.

“You know,” Peter said when Avery pulled back. “You won’t remember this. You were maybe three, and I’d just started dating your mom seriously. I was home from assignment and we were hanging out and watching The Little Mermaid and I helped get you into your jammies and you asked me if I was your real dad. I tell you, kid. I wanted to lie to you. I wanted to say that yep, I was. But I wasn’t sure if your mom and I were gonna work out and I didn’t want to hurt you like that. So instead I told you the truth - that I thought your real dad was the luckiest guy in the world and I wanted to hang out with you as much as I could. All these years later, I just know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Jake loves you. But he’s not your real dad. I am.”

Avery burst into frustrated, exhausted tears. Peter pulled him back into his arms and let him cry.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Peter murmured as the tears subsided. “I’m so sorry I’m not here more. I’m sorry your mom is stubborn and scared. I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.” When Avery pulled back, Peter could tell the wall was down again. “So, you want to go grab some lunch and go hang out somewhere and pretend that everything is okay for a while?”

Avery rubbed at his eyes like he had as a toddler and then nodded. “Guy stuff?”

“Guy stuff. Your pick.”

A slow smile crossed Avery face. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

***

A voicemail let him know Murphy had support group tonight. He blinked, staring at the phone, but under the initial surprise it did make sense. He knew she hit up AA meetings from time to time, so in the end this wasn’t that big a surprise. He ordered dinner - taking a chance on Indian food since her appetite was coming back - but also made sure there was frozen cheese pizza just in case. Avery had one of the pizzas and went to the rec room to play video games. Peter kept the door to the basement open so he could hear any happenings.

All perfectly normal, save for the harsh reminders of a life he wasn’t a part of right now all around him. The report card on the fridge, the artwork in the library. Murphy sent him some in her packages from home. He’d been more stable in his assignments so it was easier to get letters to him. The most personal, he kept in his backpack. One note stayed in his journal, angry words from Avery.

I don’t understand why you don’t come home.

He needed to do something. If not for Murphy then for himself. For his own nerves. She was almost through chemo, him coming home would be less invasive. He wouldn’t have to see her as broken down as she’d been at the beginning.

Jet lag and emotional conversations with his son caught up to him and Peter woke as Murphy came in the door. She stared at him, the same look in her eyes as the night before, and walked over to sit with him. With a sigh, she tugged off the wig and didn’t flinch - much - when he ran his hand through her thin hair. Coarse white strands came out between his fingertips.

“Here’s the deal, Peter,” she said, her blue eyes meeting his. “I’m an idiot and I’m trying to be strong and I’m scared out of my mind and that’s why I’ve been so distant.”

“Wow,” Peter almost chuckled. “Therapy is doing you a lot of good.”

She returned the favor by almost laughing. But her eyes were full of tears. “I can’t handle losing you twice,” she said. “When I lost the baby, I pushed you out the door and this is a whole different and bigger thing and it’s scary as fuck and I don’t know what it all means. I have cancer. God. I say it every damn day and it still feels wrong. I’ve got an eight year old kid for god’s sake and only a babysitter instead of a full time nanny. How can I have cancer? But here I am with hair that’s falling out and a wig that makes me look like a muppet and I spend more time on my makeup now than I ever have in my life and … I’m so scared that you being back here means you’re going to take a really good look at what this all means and not want me anymore. Yes, part of my wanting you gone is about needing normalcy, but … Peter, this isn’t pretty.”

Peter suddenly understood what it meant to have your heart stop. He caught his breath, lifted a shaking hand to her cheek, and shook his head. “Babe … god. All I’ve ever wanted is to be right here. And yeah, right now your hair is thin and you look like you haven’t eaten in a week, but you’re here. And you are as beautiful as the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Don’t lay it on so thick,” Murphy rolled her eyes. “I’ve got thinning hair and I’m bony. Come on. Be honest. If you saw me at work, you wouldn’t look twice.”

“I always do anyway.” He kissed her hand. “But, if it makes you feel better, I did spend the majority of the day explaining to Avery that I’m gone not because I want to be but because you need things to be normal.”

The sigh that escaped her reduced his blood pressure. “Thank you. Because he won’t listen to me.”

“I don’t think he listened much either, but … he’s scared, Murphy.”

“I know he is. I’m scared too. But the chemo is almost over and now it’s a matter of waiting to see what happens. And hopefully … a matter of my hair growing back.”

“And you putting on a few pounds.” Peter took a breath. “I ordered food for you.”

“I’m not hungry.” Silence. Peter wasn’t sure if he should push or not. “Hey, I’m going to go check on Avery and why don’t … you meet me in bed. I’m not sure if I’m up for anything but, if you’re still good to hold me …”

“It’s a deal.”

It took half an hour. Peter listened to the normal night at the Brown household - convincing Avery to brush his teeth, telling him yes he could stay up and read but if she caught him on his gameboy she was taking it away, and finally schlepping into the bedroom. She kicked off her flats and Peter stood up, walked over, and started to unbutton her blouse.

“Peter …” she put her hands on his.

“Hey, if you weren’t sick, I’d have ripped this open already. But you don’t exactly look like you’re in the mood for me to pounce on you.”

Slowly, her hands fell away. “Fair point.”

Gently, he undressed her. And has he had so often over the years of their relationship, knelt before her, kissing her hips and stomach. Now, though, he held her with a caution he wasn’t sure she appreciated. She was so thin now.

Eventually, she pushed away, going to change, and crawled into bed with him in the same uniform as the night before - skull cap, t-shirt, flannel pjs. She curled up with him, her cold feet on his, and Peter didn’t miss how tightly she clung to him. He didn’t miss how tightly he clung either.

“I want you to let me come home, Murphy. If only for a little while. Please. Let me be here for you, for Avery.”

She was silent long enough that he was sure she’d fallen asleep. Finally, her hand moved down his body, not seeking, but instead drawing patterns on his chest. He tried not to stare at her thin fingers, at the cracked nails she was clearly too tired to maintain.

“Okay,” she said. Slowly, she lifted her head and their eyes met. “Okay. Finish up whatever your project is and come home. I know we can’t guarantee that you’ll stay. I know you’ll drop your bags off and get called out of the country again. But if they’ll let you move your home base here until things are completely settled, I won’t complain.”

Terror and relief flooded him simultaneously. If she was agreeing to change their concept of normalcy, she had to truly be wiped out. But she was letting him in, something she hadn’t done until it was almost too late last time. “I’ll call Anna in the morning. I know I have to go back over to Afghanistan for a little bit, but in just a few weeks, it should be settled.”

She put her head back over his heart. “I’m not holding my breath. Not because of you, but because the news is where the bombs explode.”

“Yeah …” he ran his fingertips down her arm. “But, right now, I’m okay with someone else ducking the mortar fire.”

“You ever think either of us will be ready to settle down and retire?”

Peter chuckled. “Baby, I know you’re gonna die at that anchor desk.”

She giggled. “This is another edition of FYI. Tonight, Murphy Brown’s corpse refuses to give up the ghost and reports on the latest wave corruption coming from the Pentagon.”

His chuckle became a laugh. “Her decomposing body, held together by her Armani suit, refused to let the general off easy during her questions.”

The giggles became guffaws and they laughed until they cried. His sides hurt and her nose was running, but for the first time since her diagnosis, there was a sparkle to her eyes.

“I’m going to be okay, Peter,” she reassured him.

“I know. But … really, I hope you don’t mind if I try to see some of it for myself? I mean, a good reporter checks his sources.”

“Fair enough.” She settled back down. Peter kissed her head through the cap and drifted off to sleep with her.

***

“You don’t care!”

Avery wasn’t letting him off the hook. Peter stared at his son across the bedroom, knowing this little reporter didn’t have any reason to believe his sources. He’d been so scared, left alone, and now Peter was walking out the door again. But as patient as he wanted to be with this process, he also needed to drop a little bit of reality on the kid. So he walked over, pushed Avery to the bed, and made him sit down.

“I’ll be back in three weeks.” Peter said, his voice stern. “I have to go back to Afghanistan and get my things together. My boss needs to shift some things around. But I’m going to come back here and it’ll be like it was when you were really little and this was my home base.” Peter sighed. “Look, I can’t promise I will always be here. And your mom, she could also have a contract change and suddenly her life is on the road again. But we had a really long talk the other night and she’s agreed that this isn’t all normal and that I need to come home. So give me three weeks, okay?”

“Three weeks.” Avery rolled his eyes. “And then what? You go again. And you weren’t here when --”

“Avery Robert Brown.”

It was a command that made both Peter and Avery shut up. Murphy stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a scarf wrapped around her head. She was dressed to drive him to the airport - jeans and converse shoes and a loose fitting flannel shirt she’d stolen from him. She hadn’t bothered with makeup and Peter was shocked, just slightly, at the lack of eyebrows and eyelashes. But this was who she was right now, and even in the change, she was still strong. Right now, she was downright terrifying.

“Your father is doing his best and neither of us are making it easy on him. He needs to go back and do a few things and then he’s going to be here unless the job pulls him away.”

“The job sucks.”

Peter looked over and shared a glimpse with Murphy, who almost smiled. Instead she walked over and sat next to Avery on the bed. “Yeah, it does. And right now, it really sucks. A lot. But we’re trying okay. You want to be a reporter? This is the job a lot of the time. If you want to stick close to home, I suggest studying physics.”

Avery was still pouting. Murphy was having none of it. “Go back to your room until you can say goodbye like a human being.” After a long moment, Avery stormed out of the bedroom. The expected slammed door came moments later.

“I’m starting to wonder if …” she sighed. “Some kind of therapy might be good for him.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ever repeat that, okay?”

He chuckled and zipped his duffel. “I’m ready. Should we see if he’s human yet?”

“Nah.” Murphy slipped her arm around him. “You’ve been home five days and I’ve barely had the energy to hold you, let alone kiss you. You’ve got some time before we absolutely have to leave.”

Peter smirked and pulled her into his arms, sighing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “What did you have in mind?”

“Don’t think you’re getting me out of these clothes. I don’t think I can get dressed again.”

But she tugged him down on top of her on the bed and Peter went willingly, burying his face in the crook of her neck, trying not to focus on how dry her skin was, how chapped her lips. The reminders of a disease still lingering at the corners of the room, stalking them with every breath. He focused instead on how she didn’t pull away when his hand moved up her shirt, how her leg hitched over his hip as he pressed into her, wishing they had the time for more than a good old fashioned petting session. He focused on how her stomach jumped under his fingers, how even though she didn’t want to get dressed again, she didn’t stop him when he unzipped her jeans and slid a hand between her thighs. But as his hand moved lower, she did meet his eyes.

Gone was the silk tangle he’d so often run his fingers through, tugging gently as she came down from climax. His hand came across stubble, rough and patchy, and Murphy reached down to move his hand. “We don’t have time …” she cautioned. “And the door is open.”

Peter did move now, getting up to close the door. He moved back to the bed, where Murphy was sitting up, rearranging her clothes, hiding from his gaze. “Yes, we do,” he murmured. “Hey.” She looked back at him, scared and frustrated, tears in her eyes. “Murphy, this is … I’m sorry I stopped.”

“I’m not even sure I can right now …” she sighed. “As much as I might want to. As much as I miss you.”

He didn’t want to push, but he worried if he didn’t, she would think he was turned off. That he didn’t want her. “What do you want to do?” He finally asked. “Because I suspect you won’t like my ideas.”

That made her smile. “I actually love the ideas I know are going through your head, but I don’t think I can do them and also get you to the airport and right now, I think I’d rather do that. But …” she took a breath. “When you get home, we’ll go out, okay? A real date night. I’ll leave Avery at Sean’s house. We’ll keep it simple so I might let you get me naked after.”

“That’s fair.” Peter took a breath, willing his erection back under control.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching up to touch him.

“For what?”

“Still wanting me.”

The arrow pierced his heart and Peter pulled her back into his arms for a kiss he never wanted to end. “Babe, I’ll want you forever.”

“Do me a favor when you’re in Afghanistan.”

“What’s that?”

“I could use one of those steamy letters you’re so good at. It’s been a while.”

Peter blushed. “I just wasn’t sure you wanted the ones I’ve been writing.”

“Write me a new one. Now that you know what this … is. Make me feel sexy now.”

He sighed and kissed her again. “Happily.”

“Come on. Let’s go collect the kid and get to the airport. I think he needs a burger after all of this today.”

“Yeah …” Peter grabbed his duffel and took Murphy’s hand. She opened the door, squeezed his fingers, and then hollered to Avery, who appeared, sullen but human again. They descended the stairs together before heading out to the Porsche and toward the next assignment.


End file.
